Lyrics.
⊆ 9:04 AM by Serenity | chapter five-fallen warrior , coming soon , here it is , how can i give you up , lyrics , oh forgotten , quiet , recovery , the after , the bell and the hammer , when you die (a love song) . | ˜ 0 comments »THE AFTER
I don't believe in God if he can't stand up for himself
If he needs anybody's help
If he didn't only come to save
I won't go to heaven only out of fear for hell
Isn't that an easy sell?
I've got better things to do than be afraid
Like trying to forget the fundamental things I learned
Like how to sleep with fear
To know the devil's always near
That he'd jump into me when I least expected
That he'd steal my soul just to be respected
And I could go on about the antichrist
But I figure it'll be addressed in the afterlife
QUIET (A quiet life in the order of St. Benedict)
I have set to live a quiet life
Packed up all my things and sold them for an even price
Put pressure on the poor to take what I had earned
Then made my way up mountains far above the earth
The elements strike harder here,
I do not heed their sting
I host the highest heavens,
Fight the lowest beasts
Time does not exist
I've got all of it to spare
But I've got none to give to you
I've got no way to share
The pious come to see me
They remark about my beard
I almost hear them singing
I almost see them stare
I think they think I see them
I think they think I'm glad they came
But I did not ask for their leisure
I have a higher goal than fame
I have come here to complete in me
What was lacking still there in my suffering
I have come here to escape,
And, in escaping, understand
I have come here for the quiet solitude affords
I think they think I see them
I think they think I'm glad they came
But I did not ask for their leisure
I have a higher goal than fame
I have come here for the quiet that solitude affords
And any other of concerns, I have chosen to ignore
RECOVERY
Some years ago you tried to give your name
What went instead wasn't his to take
And you've been recovering ever since
Hoping that no one would notice
That you've got recovery on your mind
You've been recovering all this time
You've got recover on your mind
You've been recovering all this time
I know how you did everything all wrong
I could recite it like a song
So I've been recovering ever since
Hoping that you would not notice
But when I recover I want it gone
Don't want a reason to hang on
When I recover I want it gone
Don't need a reason to hang on
I'll have a daughter of my own
I never want her to have to know
How to recover and never to heal
But to be free and free for real.
HERE IT IS
Isn't it just like the thing to change you?
To make things matter more when they can loose.
I will hold him tighter like you told me to,
and make sure we still come and visit, too.
I won't pretend that I saw it coming,
but foresight doesn't ease the pronouncement
I can only guess how you are feeling.
If nothing less, less confident.
So, here it is,
your separation,
and I've got nothing but to cry.
Here it is,
your separation,
I better learn to say goodbye.
Isn't it just like the thing to change you?
To make you send a pitiless attack.
These 30 years, no match to anger.
You didn't even try to have me back.
Well, I won't pretend that I don't blame you,
but blaming doesn't ease the aftermath.
I can't even guess what you are thinking
or why it fell so easy and so fast.
So, here it is,
our separation,
and I've got nothing but to cry.
Here it is,
our separation,
I better learn to say goodbye.
CHAPTER 5, FALLEN WARRIOR
I'm a reluctant soldier,
satisfied to pacify with tales of others' wars.
The only weight I shoulder
for characters with weapons fighting off in fairy moors.
I'm only bold in my assertions.
I'm never bold in my behavior.
I'm paralyzed by loiter,
when all we ever hear, it seems, are rumors of our war.
We're sitting safe in service,
reciting tidings of who's felled by whatever evil sword.
I'm only bold in my assertions.
I'm never bold in my behavior,
and clever as I want to be,
I could do with being braver.
Yeah, I could do with being braver.
There's a longing to reconcile to rightness.
There's a brazen sort of truth about this war.
But there's hope in the Victor and an end,
simple and final
that everyone is fighting for.
Everyone but me, I'm a reluctant soldier.
Everyone but me, I'm a reluctant soldier
who could do with being braver.
COMING SOON
I'm not a man.
You're not a wife.
I can't provide so you can sleep at night.
What we were was swept away
when only tumbleweeds would grow.
We tilled all the tricks we'd ever know.
But still moved west,
with a baby in the belly of our youngest.
West,
with a fire in the belly of our oldest.
West,
a better life is coming soon.
We moved west.
So, brother, I'll see you at fireside,
where we'll pretend a better life:
Eleanor will have us over for a White House meal.
No, I can't spare a dime.
I'm just as poor as you,
poorer if you count all I lost you never had to lose.
It's not a village.
We don't live here.
There are no children anymore who ain't been raised.
They're ancient beggars with no fear,
lining streets like pockets lined with cash.
Praying hard to God that that bread will last.
Here in the west,
with a hunger in the belly of every liar.
West,
with cotton picking gone like paper fliers.
West,
a better life is coming soon.
We love the west.
Painters paint murals to happier times.
Young men ride the rails to happier lives,
digging ditches in the desert,
laying line that leads to never.
Living paycheck to the next meal,
as they work out Franklin's New Deal,
but you can't trick the spirit.
Being useless--we all fear it.
And you can't convince that useless tasks don't make the worker worth his work. Oh no.
HOW CAN I GIVE YOU UP?
As the father of my children, you never fathered anyone
Only led them through the city to the homes of loose women
When our princes take their kingdoms, they'll be more wicked than you were
You've taken and
You've stolen them for evil
But how can I give you up, oh Ephraim?
How can I surrender you, oh Israel?
Though you've taken hired lovers, traded your altars for thorns,
How can I give you up?
How can I give you up?
How can I give you up, oh Ephraim?
As a mother, I have reason
As a bride, I have a case
You have joined yourself with others to the reaches of my shame
The affection you have for me is the dew's affection for the ground
A fall at night
And then you leave me early
But how can I give you up, oh Ephraim?
How can I surrender you, oh Israel?
Though you've taken hired lovers, traded your altars for thorns,
How can I give you up?
How can I give you up?
How can I give you up, oh Ephraim?
Bring words with you and return.
WHEN YOU DIE (A LOVE SONG)
The longer that you get, I know the harder it will be,
with every corner of the world bathed in memory.
But the shorter that you get, I know the harder it will be,
if you don't get a fighting chance at being you,
And being you and me.
When you die, if I am still alive, I will be sad beyond compare.
If you die out in the cold, all frozen in the sleet,
I will have to travel to a land of summer heat.
I'll sell all of your things, but I will keep a few for me.
Just enough and not enough to forget,
And to remember you.
When you die, if I am still alive, I will be sad beyond compare.
OH, FORGOTTEN
Are you a deep pit, are you a narrow well?
Do you increase the faithless, send their souls to hell?
Do you collect your wool, your oil, your drink, your bread
from men with foreign tongue who climb into your bed?
And when the morning comes, nightwatchmen climb from towers,
they watch your husbands sneak home in the early hours,
back to the wives they left when you called them in the square.
They turn their backs and run only to leave you there.
Oh, forgotten harlot, does it make you want to sin no more?
Oh, forgotten harlot, does it make you feel like a whore?
But when your harlot's wages keep rolling in, does it make you want to begin again?
Just a harlot, still a harlot, till she becomes somebody's bride.
Do you profane your father on every threshing ground?
Are you a constant hunter, your feet knowing no house?
Does your face stay veiled, your forehead show no shame?
Are you an act of folly for many men to blame?
And when before a king, a sword is drawn for justice
to dispense whores' sons, one lost, one stole for fairness.
Do you claim an even share that then betrays your lie?
Shout, "Neither mine nor hers! But let monarchs divide!"
Oh, forgotten harlot, does it make you want to sin no more?
Oh, forgotten harlot, does it make you feel like a whore?
But when your harlot's wages keep rolling in, it makes you want to begin again.
Just a harlot, still a harlot, till she becomes somebody's bride.
So take up, take up and play with skill.
Take up and roam that city still.
Take up, take up and sing your song to be remembered after long.
